


A Servant Saw Him Seated There

by Folle



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, gets kind of prose-y, more hurt than anything, tbh i dont even know if this qualifies as fluff, very much unresolved hurt, yet here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 21:32:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Folle/pseuds/Folle
Summary: There was a difference between you two, you both thought it in personality.Dwight persists, and you reap the rewards.





	A Servant Saw Him Seated There

**Author's Note:**

> For soda-leaves on tumblr who requested Dwight fluff!

The campfire never burned hot. It was warm, to say the least, cast off heat and light that played tricks with the shadows. But the embers that popped off of endlessly burning logs never pricked at your skin. They lefts specks of ash, and if you laid there, stretched out and staring endless past the fire, it almost starts to look like snow.

You were alone one day, when you shoved your hand into it. There was no one, no Dwight, there to hold you back. The flames wrapped around your flesh and clothes like lukewarm running water, but it didn't hurt. It never hurt.

Sometimes, you get to spend too long around that fire. People come and people go, you don't bother talking to most. Too tired, too fed up. You would probably snap one of their heads off if they didn't know better. Jake respected that distance, so did Feng. Meg thought you were an asshole, and Ace poked at your buttons regardless.

Dwight? He didn't care. At first, maybe he did, but there was apparently something about you that made him push past his initial anxiousness and he would just blabber on about random nonsense. Maybe to stop himself from shivering. Tremors ran under skin, no matter how close he scooted to the fire.

He quickly learned that you were like a human heat pad. Completely by accident. His hand brushed yours when he was passing you an offering to burn. Dwight had snatched his hand away and clutched it to his chest, as if he had been burned. Then he started talking again, to himself, to you, as if he hadn't just acted as if he had been branded.

But the next time you two crossed paths at the fire, he sat down next to you, as he normally does. A little closer than usual, but the tremors under his skin were stronger, more violent, and he couldn't stop reflexively swallowing, and rubbing at his neck. It wasn't too difficult to pick up how his last match had gone.

Dwight didn't speak for a while, and you didn't either. You never did. It was hard for you, and you weren't sure if you had even come to terms with what was happened. If you spoke, you were afraid of what might come out.

"You're really warm, hot. Not - Not that kind of hot, but not like you're not extremely attractive - " Dwight finally spoke, his voice as soft as down comforter. He has to stop himself and taking in a few breaths to stop the twitching in his hands. He was twisting a small pit into the dirt with a twig, and wasn't even properly facing you. "Do you stay by the campfire much?"

It was easy enough for you to nod you head in response, though you weren't entirely sure if he caught the motion.

He turns to face you, crawling towards you. "Do you mind if I...? I just- I can't seem to get rid of this shaking, and this- this awful cold - "

You open an arm to him. There was a chill in the Entity's realm, it settled deep in your bones and ached worse than any pain brought by a blade.

Dwight took no time clambering over and settling in beside you, his ear resting on your chest and his head tucked under your chin. He wormed his arms around your waist, and the way your legs tangled together almost seemed natural. Something clicked inside you, and your fingers dug into his shoulder and upper arm.

"Hey, are you okay? If you don't like - if you don't want - I can - "

He tries to pull away from you, but you only dig your fingers in deeper. Not enough to become uncomfortable, but Dwight stilled at it. He tilted his head up when something dripped onto his forehead. You had never seen it rain before in the Entity's realm. It was slow, extremely slow, and presice. You could feel droplets rolling down your face.

"Are you cr - ?"

"I want to go home." Your voice cracked, and your eyes became bleary. You hastily rubbed away any wetness with the sleeve of your shirt, only serving to make your cheeks more wet. You choked on a painful sob trying to escape your throat, but all that came out was a choke.

Dwight wrapped his arms tighter around your waist and closed his eye. His head rose and fell in sync with your chest. "So do I." His voice was quieter before, like the words were afraid to leave his mouth. "But at least there's the campfire. It's - it's like an anchor, or a lighthouse, or I don't know what. It's the only thing we have."

"I know," came your reply. It wasn't even audible, you weren't sure if you actually said it or not, but Dwight seemed to understand the croak that came from you. "It's warm." It was more clear than earlier. "Warm, not hot. It's like it's trying to remember what a fire is."

"Can it go out? Can the Entity put it out?"

"No. Maybe. I don't want to think about it."

Dwight loosens his grip on your waist, and nuzzles his face into your chest. "What if it did, what would happen to the fire?"

"The fire in the real world would go out. I think. Or maybe the fire was never started in the first place. No one remembered that there was ever a fire," you murmur into Dwight's hair, pulling him up and closer.

"Would we remember the fire? Even if we touched it?"

"No."

Dwight curls his legs up, and for the first time, he slumps and relaxes. He pulls one of your hands off of his arm and hold it to his chest. He closes his eyes, and his face tenses up into concentration. Slowly, he starts murmuring numbers under his breath.

You firmly kept a grip on his hand, gently rubbing your thumb against it. The texture and repitition helped slow down Dwight's counting.

Dwight was warm, cool in comparison to you, and it made your heart wretch and his counting to speed up.


End file.
